


The Plaid Jumper's Son

by bballchamp10



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, The Lion King (1994)
Genre: Case Fic, Crack, Gen, Imaginary umbrella, Lion King, Pie, Possibly hallucinogenic water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:02:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bballchamp10/pseuds/bballchamp10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something's not quite right with Sherlock Holmes. Or with John Watson, for that matter. It's all a bit of a mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Plaid Jumper's Son

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Urminator](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Urminator).



> Happy birthday, bestie :) Hope it's a great one.

The last case, John pondered, had taken a rather grim turn. What had started out as a minor corner shop robbery was now a murder investigation. John wished he was not spending the evening knee deep in lake water, trying to locate the victim's jumper. He heard the distant rumblings of an early storm and hoped that their investigations would not last for much longer. 

Sherlock was standing utterly still in the middle of the water, his eyes unfocused on reality. All of a sudden, he started flailing about. John looked up and panicked for a moment.

"Sherlock, you all right?" he inquired warily.

"Yes, I'm fine." Sherlock sauntered over to the edge of the water and crouched down, examining the dirt. He then jumped back up, and oh goodness, was Sherlock Holmes tap dancing?

"I'm SIINNGING IN THE RAAAIN, just SIIINNNNGING IN THE RAIN," Sherlock bolted out, his voice surprisingly mellow and sonorous. He twirled his imaginary umbrella around.

John did not know what to say. He paused for a moment, giving the stink eye to Sherlock. That did nothing to deter Sherlock from jumping back into the water and trying to float around the river on his back, his cloak billowing around him.

"Hakuna matata, John."

"What?" 

"It means no worries. Now swim in the lake. It's fun."

John wished he had brought his gun.

John trudged to the side of the lake, pulled out a lemon meringue pie from under a bushel, and threw it at you. Yes, you, the creepy reader. Why are you so interested in the private life of Sherlock Holmes? John hasn't got time for you, sticking your nose all up in his business. 

Now, please go away. John's got to sedate Sherlock with an elephant grade tranquilizer. And then he has to vacuum the flat, because it's a mess. 

The end.


End file.
